Pink Lemonade
by TexasDreamer01
Summary: So do Yugi and Yami ever discuss the state of Yugi's wardrobe? A bit, even if it devolves into an argument. The make-up sex is fantastic, though. Puzzleshipping with much love to walls. Gift fic for icecubey.


"You didn't have to call her out on that!"

Yami followed with a scowl, brows furrowing even more when the door was blatantly slammed in his face.

Wrenching the door open - they were in _his_ soul room, after all - he grabbed Yugi's wrist and turned him around. "Why _not_?" He retorted, voice lowering into an angry hiss.

True to form, his other wasn't intimidated by his anger.

"Because I flaunt the school's dress code every day, Yami!" He yanked his arm out of his grasp, leveling a dark glare of his own. "It didn't matter what she thought! The teachers leave me alone, and you don't have to go out like a rampaging bull every time someone wants to harass me!"

There was a pang in his chest, but he pressed on, regardless. He had never lost an argument, and wasn't about to make a habit of it, Yugi or no. "People have no right to threaten you in such a manner, _aibo_. I make sure of that."

Suddenly, he was shoved against one of the numerous walls in his soul room, a furious _omote_ inches from his face.

"I highly doubt everyone will threaten me with suspension over my clothing," Yugi said in a startlingly low voice, "Not when half the school stares at my ass."

"They shouldn't be staring at your ass!" He blurted out.

All he received was a cocked brow and a smirk eerily reminiscent to his own. "Oh?" The shorter of the two asked smoothly, "What, are you jealous?"

His scowl returned with a vengeance, and the growl that was deep in his throat was cut off with the harsh press of lips to his own.

It was more than a little strange to feel the lean lines of his other pressed against nearly every inch of him, one hand roughly cupping him at the nape of his neck and the other holding him possessively by the hip.

As his lips were worked without an ounce of shame, his eyes he started to flutter shut. But then he remembered why he was being kissed in the first place, and his half-lidded eyes flashed in anger as he abruptly switched their positions.

* * *

Yugi's blood boiled as he argued with his other. So what if the girl mocked him for wearing his typical black clothes instead of the entire school uniform? One person didn't make for a majority opinion, he knew that.

It was a little hard to ignore the looks he received from even the guys.

When Yami blurted out that oh-so-delightful piece of information, he had to sharpen his grin into a smirk and a cool tone. The way his eyes darkened in anger, and then widened in surprise. Oh, yes, it was fun messing with his dark.

Pinning him against the wall was even better, and he could feel every line of tension in the other's body. He had wasted no time in funnelling his anger into a bruising kiss on those soft, dry lips.

Though it was just a little bit unbalancing to find himself flipped around, a knee wedged between his legs right as Yami was melting like chocolate in his hands, he couldn't help but let a smirk pull at his features.

"Am I getting to you, Yami?" He cooed innocently, watching with interest as the taller teenager tried to hide his panting breath and flushed face. "I can't believe that you, of all people, would be jealous. You were the one that wanted me to wear these pants."

The guttural, dark sound that he had interrupted mere moments ago made a reappearance. It shot a spark through his spine, and he couldn't help but shiver, fascinated by the angry, trembling spirit in front of him.

He was suddenly aware of the hands holding his waist in a vice-like grip, fingers splayed in such a way that they were touching from his hips up to his ribs. Yami chuckled, leaning in to whisper hotly into his ear.

"_Aibo_," he said, smirking against the shell of his ear when he trembled at the sudden invasion of space, "Do you find amusement in riling me up like this? Testing how long I can last until I do something I'll regret?"

"Quite the opposite, _mou hitori no boku_," he purred, wondering vaguely how the hell their fight morphed into this, arching into him, "I think it's sexy."

His hand was still tangled in the other's hair, and he could feel the muscles of his neck move under his fingers as Yami's jaw clenched in shocked disbelief at his statement.

There was barely time to withhold a gasp as lips were almost shoved against his own. One of the hands around his waist skimmed its way up, placing itself firmly on his upper back in a facsimile of being cradled.

He soon regretted arching his back, as the leg between his legs suddenly felt like fire, pressing tauntingly against him. A moan escaped him as his hips were suddenly hoisted up against that leather-clad leg, a blatant bulge against the crease of his hip.

* * *

Yami felt almost dizzy, his heart pounding as his blood thrummed in his veins, changing from familiar anger to blinding lust.

How dare he flaunt the subtle attention he received from others in his face? A snarl climbed out of his throat as he watched Yugi smirk, and he almost leered at the fine trembles he could feel.

As he challenged his other, he couldn't help but feel victorious as the trembling was magnified the closer he was.

Nothing startled him more than Yugi unashamedly arching against him like a cat in heat, those words rolling off his tongue in a daring purr. He had to restrain himself from gaping.

But as he felt those skilled, calloused fingers kneading his neck with the lightest of touches, combined with that dangerous half-lidded smirk on the teenager in his grasp - he was almost unaware of himself shifting himself closer.

By the gods, why had he not done this sooner? He couldn't get enough of the taste of his light, mischief and worldly innocence all rolled into one. The needy moan that filled his ears incited one of his own, and he rolled his hips, reveling in the gasp and twitch that resulted.

He pulled Yugi closer, breaking off to trail kisses along his jaw, too consumed with the lust roiling through his mind like a tempest to notice more than the hitch of the other's breath when he passed over the wild pulse with a heated touch of wet lips.

* * *

It felt like all the air was sucked out of the hallway, and Yugi felt about ready to melt out of his clothes.

Every nerve was tingling. He clung to Yami, electricity skittering along his sensitized skin as he felt those lips plunge into the hallow of his throat with an open-mouthed kiss.

There was an underlying sense of helplessness as his darkness pushed him against the wall with naught but his own body, fingers sneaking their way under the hem of his shirt to caress prickled skin.

"Mine," Yami growled, tugging off his shirt.

Yugi suddenly froze, his eyes narrowing as he registered the sudden statement. When Yami tried shoving his arms aside to get the article of clothing off, he yanked them away. Before his other could do anything about it, he had squirmed out of his grasp and pivoted on the foot he had kept planted on the floor.

* * *

Yami was slammed once again into the unforgiving stone wall, this time wondering what the hell he had done to deserve it this time.

The furious look should have been intimidating, but combined with the flushed face and bruised lips of his other, the sight made him groan breathlessly instead. His reaction incited a similar one from the male holding him against the wall, and he was nearly ruthlessly pressed more against the rough surface, legs suddenly forced apart to accommodate a rail-thin body between them.

Hands were abruptly shoving his shirt up and over his head and arms, tossing it to the side and grazing his sides with light scratches.

Being touched in such a manner - caresses just this side of rough and commanding, with a barely-there skimming of nails - and so suddenly, felt like his breath was punched out of him. Gasping for air proved useless, as his lips were captured in an equally consuming manner as the hands over his body, a tongue experimentally drawing choked sounds and moans from him. His other might not have the most experience, but he had ideas and learned... _very_ quickly.

Just as he sighed into the attention and ceased even trying to fight back - their actual fight in the first place barely tickling the back of his mind, a cold brush of air wafted over him with a whoosh that was sudden enough to startle him.

It wasn't enough to encourage the lassitude seeping into him to be shocked out, though, and it took a few moments for his eyes to flicker up to the other teenager's inquisitively. The serious look captured his attention.

"Mine," Yugi said simply, the word heavy with its implications. He gasped, the fluttering of his other's mind relaying what that single, incredibly dense word meant. He slumped in the firm grasp on his body, nodding.

"_Aibo_."

* * *

He knew the message was interpreted correctly when his nickname tumbled from Yami's lips in a hoarse tone.

A smirk drawled at his lips, softened only ever so slightly by habit. Running his hands over the other's chest and down his arms - lips curving into a quiet coo of approval at the recipient shudder - he clasped their hands together and brought them to rest beside his _yami_'s head, beginning a slow, rocking rhythm with his hips.

The friction was deliberately building up the heat that had chased the two of them this entire time. He moaned, leaning in to slip his lips over Yami's. When the other bucked his hips in a bid to feel more, the duelist chuckled, returning the gesture with a demanding grind.

It quickly devolved from there, sensuous kisses sharpening with nips, hands shedding the other of leather and cloth. Yami had yanked his hands free, only to draw him closer to dip surprisingly uncalloused hands down his much-argumented pants and grope him with a satisfied look. The gesture was returned by roughly yanking down his pants, and he groaned good-naturedly when they stopped just before the other's knees.

He quickly took advantage of Yami's partial nudity, taking him in hand and pumping him. His grip was firm enough to spark a gasp, and he grinned, withdrawing just enough to rub a thumb over the tip. A low moan was his reward, and he bent his head to press a kiss just under the other's trembling ribs, making a pleased sound when the hands grasping his ass tightened with the gesture.

* * *

It was, he learned, better to give in to his _aibo_ instead of protesting. At least sometimes.

But this was most definitely _not_ the exception.

Yugi seemed intent to make him buckle into a puddle of happy goo. Judging by the self-satisfied look on his face, he didn't think he was too far off the mark. That thought was wiped away, though, with the hands roaming over his body and tightening over his cock with playful insistence. The kiss that followed just served to heighten his newly-discovered sensitivity... or maybe it was just the fact that the other half of his soul was placing his lips where he never in all his remembered days expected anyone to put them.

Being touched in what he considered such an intimate manner, at least thus far, seemed to be the permission Yugi was looking for. He vaguely remembered moaning. That was probably it, yeah.

Thinking was quickly dismantled when he was turned around to face the wall, his _omote_ pressing up against his back and a hand sneaking past the cleft of his ass to press at his entrance with a teasing finger. He gasped, the not-quite intrusion feeling alien. A chuckle reverberated against the base of his neck, a quick but gentle bite making the hair there stand on end.

"I would love to be inside of you," Yugi murmured, his lips brushing against his skin in an electrifying way that he felt all the way down to his toes. That damned finger kept circling him, and it was starting to feel more interesting than unwanted, "But this is your soul room, after all. And I didn't bring any lube. Would you happen to have any?"

The words were accompanied by a mental image presented with a leering, knowing smirk. He cursed, then gasped as the other's finger finally breached past him. His decision was swiftly made for him, and with a curl of shadow magic - prompted along by Yugi's presented memories - crafted a small bottle of the requested substance.

Nothing was exactly real here. But that didn't stop the obscene sound of his other coating his fingers and the cold, slick digits working themselves in with a bluntness that knocked the breath out of his lungs from seeming real enough to make him want to swoon. Words were being murmured into his ear, and he realized suddenly that he had been holding his breath.

A moan rippled from his throat when the fingers inside him pressed on something that made his vision shutter white. He arched back, wanting to feel more of whatever it was.

The fingers withdrew, and he shook at the void they seemed to leave. "_Aibo_..."

Yugi brushed against his mind, a comforting presence, a hand cupping his rear to spread him wider than he already was. He shifted his feet to adjust, feeling more than hearing the approving noise the action incited. The full length of his other was abruptly pressed against him, and the bout of panic at feeling himself beginning to be stretched in intrusion was soothed away with a thought and the hands holding his hips still.

It was an excruciating process. His hands curled, white-knuckled, on the stone wall, and he resisted the urge to twitch at the pain. Waves of lust-lined concern lapped at his mind, constantly and gently reminding him to relax. It seemed the best option.

A few moments later, with head bowed slightly and bangs brushing softly against his cheek, he felt the unsettling motion of being filled to the brim. With Yugi. Or more accurately, Yugi's cock. The idea made him shiver, and the hands that tightened around him with a moan furthered the thought.

* * *

Doing his best to not swear colourfully was getting more and more difficult by the second. Yami was taking him in like he was damned made for it. Maybe he was. He didn't know and right now he didn't care.

When he had finally bottomed out in his other he moaned. This time he did swear, and it was low and growling.

"Fuck, Yami," he gasped, withdrawing slowly and thrusting back in shakily, "You _are_ a tight ass."

An equally-shaky chuckle was the only response, before an unsteady thrust choked off the sound. He wanted to hear that noise again, so he repeated himself, a bit more steady. The action warranted a stuttered moan. It was close enough to satisfy him, even though he was quickly becoming greedy in hearing his other.

He shifted his hands so that they were more on Yami's thighs. This forced them closer to the wall, sinking him in deeper and elongating his stroke mid-thrust. They both moaned at that, and he bit his _yami_'s shoulder roughly at the sensation.

The tumble of emotions that passed between them was almost dizzying. He was losing control at an astonishing rate because of it... well, and because of the absolutely delectable sounds that were filtering into his ears, and he gave in to the urge to speed up, snapping his hips with a sharp, fluid motion.

Apparently it was a good idea, because Yami started panting outright and moaning more than he already was, bucking his hips in an attempt to drive him in even deeper. "_Aibo_, _aibo_ please," His dark groaned, hands scrabbling against the wall fruitlessly, "More... _please_."

* * *

It seemed those were the magic words. Yugi was nearly ruthless, dragging and positioning him as he pleased to pound into him. When he whimpered at his erection being pressed into the wall, he was instead contorted into arching his spine deeply, forearms bracing himself stubbornly.

Each thrust was rocked into him. Sweat slicked their skin and made this seem less of any sort of making love and more of a primal rutting. He moaned, acutely aware of every motion Yugi made. Fingers were digging into him with impunity, dragging across him with a wildfire touch.

His _aibo_ managed to find the one spot that drove him insane and made him keen with how he was brushing past it. It wasn't enough, not quite what he wanted. Pleas spilled past his lips, voice rougher and lower from the amount of panting and moaning and choking of both he had been doing. A shudder twitched his hips a bit when his spine was brazenly traced with a warm tongue.

Sparks exploded behind his eyes when Yugi finally hit... whatever it was. It was good, though, and he wanted more of it. His other seemed to, too, and ground into him at this new angle.

Screaming himself hoarse was almost mandatory now, and he was efficiently coaxed into doing so as often as possible. Yugi was permeating his mind with low-voiced thoughts, words that made him quiver in surprise at how filthy they were. The things that his other wanted to do to him; he moaned raggedly, feeling the tension in his body start to crest.

* * *

Yami was... intoxicating. Yes, that could be the only word for what was happening. Every sound and trembling of his body bounced the thought around his head into a riot. Feeling himself welcomed in to such a tight, tight body made his blood thrum with a vicious intensity.

He decided abruptly that if this was make-up sex, then they ought to fight more often.

When his _yami_ started pulsing around him and screaming, he choked on his breath. That felt so _good_. Thrusting became more desperate, less controlled and more demanding, taking what he wanted with a pleasure they both shared.

It didn't take long until they were overwhelmed. He came first with a stuttered cry, unable to resist rocking weakly into his other's willing body as he was milked dry with a choked scream of his nickname. Their sweat-glazed bodies were suspended in their positions before he withdrew feebly, mindful of the other's wince, tugging Yami down to drape over him on the floor.

An arm wrapped around him, and they lazed on the floor, heedless of the scattered clothing. Eventually he squirmed out of Yami's grasp, resting a loose fist on the other's chest, looking apologetic, "I'm sorry."

That brought the other's attention, and he laid a hand over Yugi's. He smiled warmly, if a little tired from just getting off the high of sex.

"It's okay. I'm sorry, too," the spirit admitted sheepishly, "I shouldn't have gone off on you like that; you have every right to dress the way you want."

He grinned impishly, tracing a hand down to Yami's still-exposed groin and fondling him shamelessly, "So long as you think my butt looks good, right?"

Yami coloured, batting the other's hand away with a harassed look. "... Yes."


End file.
